Dancing Ponies
by the.nerd.voice
Summary: Sharon must overcome her greatest fear during an investigation, but is it what others may think? ((For LiveJournal group MC Mothership challenge 3))
1. Chapter 1

Captain Sharon Raydor's silver colored car rolls to a stop outside a brightly colored big top tent. Sitting there a moment without speaking.

"I've never been to the circus. Is it fun?" Rusty Beck grins, gazing at the big top.

"I'm being hazed."

"You've been there over a year. Why would they haze you now? Isn't that something that is done when you're new?"

"Usually, but I put nothing past Lieutenant Provenza." Sharon bites her lower lip gently, her skin pale.

"Something wrong?"

"I'm..." She sighs heavily, "I'm terrified of clowns."

Rusty laughs a little, the pauses when she doesn't join him, "Wait, you're serious." He watches her still, "Want me to go get Amy? She can brief you out here and let you know if there are any clowns inside."

"I'd...yes, that would be most helpful. Thank you, Rusty." Sharon nods, watching as the young man climbs from the car.

He smirks walking under the police tent. Since he was usually a regular fixture at crime scenes with his foster mother, most officers knew him. Provenza catches sight of him and waves him inside.

"Where is Raydor?" Lieutenant Louie Provenza dons a pair of black rubber gloves, looking over around the main floor. "Guys, there is some blood splatter over there. I want pictures before you collect samples." He turns his attention back to Rusty, "I asked you a question."

"She's in the car." Rusty nods, "Um, where is Detective Sykes?"

"Home with the flu. What's this about?"

"Uh..." He laughs a little, "I'll ask Flynn to brief her then."

"She wants a briefing before she even comes in?" Provenza furrows his brow, "She needs to come and see the body and-"

"I'll brief her. It's not a problem." Lieutenant Andy Flynn hears his friend giving the kid trouble, "Come on, Rusty. Show me to the car, would ya?"

Rusty nods quickly, waiting until they're out of earshot from the older man and the rest of the squad, "Thanks for saving my ass back there."

"It's no trouble. Don't worry about it." He smirks, "Why is she not coming in?"

"She's afraid of clowns." The teenager blurts, "So...don't tease her."

"Wouldn't dream of it, but it is going to make this case a lot harder on her." Flynn nods, "Go ahead and sit on the bleacher inside. Its starting to rain." When he watches Rusty run off, he leans down, gently knocking on the Captain's window with his knuckle.

Raydor jumps slightly, motioning for him to enter. Once he closes the door behind himself, her head gently leans to the side, "Where is Detective Sykes?"

"What? I'm not good enough?" He feigns emotional hurt, but smirks after, "Home with the flu. I'm what you've got."

"Okay, what can you tell me?" She clasps her hands in her lap, knuckles white.

"The victim is mid-forties, male. Tightrope Artist with the circus company. He has been so since he was sixteen. He recently became the company president or leader, I don't know what the hell they call it. Head carney. Anyway, his wife wasn't real upset, but her twenty year old daughter was. You'll see that when you come inside."

"How long were he and the wife together?"

"Few years. Not too long though. She's been with the company about ten years in all, joining and leaving here and there." Andy nods, "Are you, uh...coming inside?"

"Are there..." Sharon pauses, tilting her head from side to side, "Any of them in there?"

"Any of what?"

She sighs heavily, defeated, "The people with the white faces and red noses? Floppy shoes?"

Andy grins, laughing, "You really are terrified, aren't you..."

"When I was younger, my father would dress as a...as one of those for my birthday party. Ages three to fourteen-"

"You had a clown at your birthday party when you were a teenager?"

Sharon nods slowly, "He would wake me up with his face painted and in full costume." She swallows, "You can only imagining opening your eyes in the morning with something like that staring at you, squeaking his red nose, and using a ridiculously high pitched voice. It's..." She takes a deep breath, "It still conjures nightmares."

"Sharon, you'll be fine." Flynn nods, "I promise." He smirks, motioning to the tent, "Rusty is inside, there's a dead body, there's other things that are usually at crime scenes, there's the rest of the team."

"And no-"

Flynn shakes his head slowly, "You'll be fine." He opens his door.

Raydor nods her head, climbing out of the car. Her heels sink slightly in the grass, "I wore the wrong shoes." She mumbles, mostly to herself.

"I'll trade you." He offers with a smirk, walking inside with her.

"We don't wear the same size." She smirks, glancing over and seeing Rusty, "You okay?"

Rusty nods, "This is cool. There are elephants backstage. I saw elephants, Sharon." He grins broadly, "And girls in skirts that stand on horses. Did you know about this?"

Sharon tilts her head to the side, sensing his excitement, "You found all that out in the little amount ot time-"

"I searched it on my phone...the horses part. The elephants I saw. They're huge. I mean, You know they're gonna be big from when you're little, but you have no idea until you're standing next to one." He nods, "Can I go back and look at them more?"

"Of course, but please, I beg of you, please be careful." She smirks, watching him run off again. Raydor turns her attention to the sheet covering the victim, "Lieutenant Flynn briefed me."

Provenza nods, "Took you long enough. Victim's name is Thomas Birch. We think he was hit with a blunt object here and the body was dragged this way." He motions to the marks and blood splatters, "There are no cameras running when there are no shows occurring. There were no witnesses."

"Kendall," Sharon looks to the young black man, "Do you have a liver temperature?"

"Yeah." Kendall nods, "Liver temp puts the death at about ten this morning."

"That early and there are no witnesses?" She looks between Flynn and Provenza, then back to the sheet, "Can I see the body?"

"Of course, Ma'am." He pulls the white sheet back.

Sharon quickly moves away from the body, turning her back and covering her chest with her hand. Her heart races and she can feel a rush of blood fill her cheeks, "Not funny, Lieutenant."

Flynn sighs, "I had no idea our tightrope walker was a clown, Captain."

"Hard ass Raydor is afraid of clowns?" Provenza begins to laugh.

"They creep me out too, Captain." Sanchez nods.

Raydor trembles slightly, "Thank you, Detective." She answers quietly.

Flynn shakes his head, moving closer to her, "I swear. I had no idea. I swear it, Captain."

"Could um...Could someone let Rusty know we're leaving?"

"I'm on it." Sanchez nods, walking away from the group.

"This was cruel...I told you, in the car, how..." Sharon waves her hand a little, "No, you know what, I'm just...I'm going to wait until Morales cleans the body up. I'll be in the office. If I find out this was some sort of prank between the two of you, you will both regret it, immensely."

Rusty jogs out from behind the stage, "Hey, everything okay?" He stands next to her, noticing the trembling and how nervous she appears, his eyes drift to Flynn and Provenza, "What did you do?"

"What the hell makes you think I did anything?" Andy shakes his head.

Provenza looks to the boy, "Take her home. You drive, kid. She's a wreck. You need a few hours to calm down, Captain. Go home, have some breakfast, watch some morning television."

Rusty nods, taking her arm gently, "I'll drive."

"That's supposed to relax me?" Raydor glances to her ward.

"I'm not that bad." He shrugs, walking her away from the scene.

"You knew what was under the blanket." Provenza waits until she's out of earshot, mumbling to Flynn.

"Yeah, but I thought she'd react better if she knew it was dead." Andy looks to his friend, "There's a few others to interview and we can go."

He nods, "I'm right with you."

Rusty pulls out of the grass parking space that Raydor had created for herself, he glances to her hands, "You're still shaking."

"I'm fine. Please, keep your eyes on the road, Rusty." Raydor swallows, watching the road ahead of the boy, mostly staring.

"Were you like...tortured by clowns?"

"You can say that." She sighs, "No, but...it isn't something I'm willing to talk about right now."

The young man shrugs, "Why did you make me come with you today?"

"You are on summer vacation and I don't necessarily want you to just stay home and-"

"Did you want me to protect you from big bad Bozo?" Rusty smirks.

"I thout you would enjoy seeing the animals." Sharon answers quietly, knowing full well her fear would be easier dealt with if he were at her side, "Though, we could go to the zoo for that."

"I don't like zoos." He answers quietly, biting the corner of his mouth.

"Oh God, I'm sorry. I just...I completely forgot, Rusty. I do apologize." She looks to him, concern painting her face.

"I'd be willing to try though, maybe. If you came with me, we could try to go," Rusty's voice I hopeful, not wanting to have a fear not only from the traumatic incident of his mother leaving him there, but of such a childish place.

"I would love to do that with you in the near future." She smiles softly, "I really would."

"I mean, you know, when I get older and have kids and stuff-"

"Much older."

"I want to be able to take my kids and not think about waiting out front the LA Zoo for like...four hours. I called from their office and they...they finally caught wind that something was wrong, but I was able to blow them off. So I walked back to the apartment and I used my key." He nods, "All the stuff was gone. All their clothes. Some furniture. Some pictures."

Sharon listens intently, her gaze shifting back to the road, "You've never really talked about this with me."

"It isn't something I like to talk about." Rusty answers quietly.

"I'm not stopping you. I am always here to listen to whatever you need to talk about." She nods, "Whether it be about that or things that are occurring at school, or things when you were younger. Whatever you need."

"Thanks." He smiles a little.

"Good, now, please slow down before you hit that small tortoise crossing the road." Sharon points.

"Sharon, that's like...eight hundred feet away. What makes you think I would," A thump is heard and he goes silent, "I hit the turtle."

"We should see if he's okay. Pull over."

"It's a turtle!"

Sharon shakes her head, "I don't care if it were an axe murderer, you still hit a living creature and we're still going to see if they are able to function." She points to the shoulder of the road, waiting until he rolls to a stop to climb from the car.

Rusty grips the steering wheel for a moment, leaning forward and hitting his head against it before getting out of the automobile as well, jogging over to her, "Is it dead?"

"No, but he may be injured. He's moving very slowly."

"Well, it's kind of in the description of what a turtle does."

"It's a tortoise." She corrects him.

"How can you be so sure?" He raises an eyebrow.

"When I was a teenager, I used to work at a zoo part time. I just know." Sharon crouches down, watching it, "This one is probably at least eighty years old."

"And still that small?"

"Yes. It's a female. Not that it matters, but the species can live longer than the two of us combined."

Rusty's eyes widen and his eyebrow raises, "Interesting."

Sharon rises, smiling, "Really? I could tell you more-"

"Not really, no."

"Oh." Sharon nods, "We should take her with us."

"And put her where?" Rusty shakes his head.

"Good point."

"Maybe she's trying to commit suicide."

"Never know." She sighs, "Good luck, Ms. Tortoise." Sharon speaks to the hard shelled creature slowly moving across the road before walking back to her car, "I'm driving."

"Not fair!" Rusty walks behind her.

"No, it is not. However, I can't risk you hitting something else today. A dog, a beggar, a giraffe, a bear..."

"A beggar? People still say that?" He raises his eyebrow.

"I believe I just did." Sharon smirks, opening the door and climbing behind the wheel.


	2. Chapter 2

Raydor wraps the arm strap of her purse around the rest of the bag gently, pulling out the bottom drawer of her desk. She places the purse inside before lowering herself to her chair. She takes a deep breath, "Rusty, do you have any summer reading to do for school?"

"Sharon, I only finished school a couple of weeks ago. Can't I have a break first?" Rusty grumbles, plopping into the large green chair opposite her desk.

"If you let your mind rest, you'll quickly fall out of a schooling mindset. The quicker you read the novels, the sooner you'll complete your assignment. That means, while your friends are out having a good old time now, they'll be breaking their necks when it comes time for school and won't enjoy the summer at all."

"That's not even...I want to be with them, Sharon! I want to wait and bust my ass later! I want to have fun while they're having fun." He nods, almost pleading with her, "You know I'll read it. You know I'll finish it."

"Rusty, I said no. My children did it this way and you are no exception."

The young man stands, shaking his head, "I'm not your child."

"Would I have paid for Catholic schooling, extracurricular activities, books, lunches-"

"You make lunches." Rusty reminds her, his arms folded.

"Would I do all of those things if I didn't want you to be my own?" Sharon doesn't look up at him, reading over the case files on her laptop as details are slowly submitted from Sanchez via an iPad at the scene of the crime.

He sighs, running his hand through his hair, "Fine, fine, but you gotta admit I always do my school work."

"Yes, you do."

"And I make you food, and I do the laundry sometimes. I...I help with things, right?" Rusty bites his lip, wanting to not seem like a burden to the woman. He's gone above and beyond that. At least he hopes he has.

"Of course, Rusty. Now, please, read the novels and do your assignments before you go out with friends and things. You will thank me later." Raydor looks up to the young man, "You've aided me more day to day than my own children did when they were your age. I want you to get into the habit of doing work before pleasure." She offers him a closed mouth smile, raising her eyebrows to emphasize her statements.

"You..." He swallows, looking down to the floor, "You really meant that?"

"Absolutely." Sharon folds her hands in front of her, watching him, "Is everything okay, Rusty?"

Rusty nods quickly, probably a little too quickly, "You don't want me to not have any friends though, right?"

"You know I love for you to make connections with other people. Whether that be friends or significant others is entirely up to you."

"It's just that," He sits in a chair directly in front of her desk which usually were used by other members of the division or victim's families, anyone but the boy, "It's just that I lived with this lady once that made me clean her house and stuff...I didn't cook for her. I didn't want to. I cook when I'm happy, not when I'm forced to." Rusty leans forward a little, "And she would yell at me and stuff. She'd pick me up from school and drop me off...wouldn't even let me leave the house or join any clubs." He swallows, "I don't think you're like that. I mean, I've lived with you for like...a year, and I think whatever we have is good."

"I agree completely." Sharon continues to watch him, "Rusty, I'd never force you to do anything that wasn't for your benefit or that you didn't particularly want to do. You're a teenage boy. You're supposed to join clubs and have friends. You're supposed to get into trouble. However, just know that I will always be right there when you need me. No matter what the situation is, no matter how bad you think it is, you should never be afraid to talk to me or call me when you need to."

The young man swallows, nodding almost absently. "I um...I have an app on my phone. I can read the books that way while I'm here. Is that okay?"

"Absolutely, but you'll read the paperback when we're at home, and I will test you on what you've read during the day, everyday." Sharon smirks.

Rusty smirks a little, "Think I'd lie to you?"

"No, but I do know that teenagers think they're able to pull the wool over their parents' eyes. Buster, if I catch you doing so one time, it's paperbacks only."

He grins more, "Yes, ma'am."

"Good, now go sit in your chair and read. Three chapters a day. You should finish the book in a week, if not sooner." Sharon motions to his usual chair, "Have a seat over there."

"Okay, one more thing though." Rusty offers, "When I was backstage looking at the elephants and stuff, I noticed one of the horses had blood on it's hoof. Looked like she stepped in it. I don't know if that means anything of if it would be useful to you." He shrugs.

"Actually, Rusty, it just might." Raydor grins, picking up her mobile phone to call Provenza who was still at the crime scene.

"Captain, how may I be of service?" Louie Provenza oversees the specimen collection of the crime scene, other officers interviewing different people around the tent.

"Lieutenant, thank you for answering my call. Have any of the horse riders been interviewed yet?"

Slowly looking about the tent, he picks the phone up closer to his mouth, "Some. Were you looking for something in particular?"

"Rusty said, while walking the grounds and surveying the sights, he noticed one of the horses had what appeared to be blood on a hoof. It may be worth looking into." She glances over to the young man, raising an eyebrow, "Were there any horse tracks left at the scene?"

Provenza listens to her a moment, then smirks, "Captain, I can pretty much guarantee you that a horse did not kill our clown."

Raydor rolls her eyes, "Funny, Lieutenant, however horses are quite choosy about whom they allow to handle them. Probably only a select few the horse trusts." She smirks, "May help you narrow it down."

"You know so much about this...why?"

"I was quite the equestrian in my former days."

He raises an eyebrow, "Can you still ride?"

"Goodbye, Lieutenant." Raydor touches the screen of her phone, disconnecting the call.

Provenza chuckles to himself, slipping his phone back into his pocket, "Flynn, go and check the horses. Apparently Rusty noticed blood on a foot or something."

"A hoof." Flynn corrects his friend.

"What the hell does it matter?"

"Horses have hooves. You bet on them enough. You should know that." He nods.

Provenza waves his hand, "Just go check what I told you to."

Flynn chuckles, walking behind the curtain, noticing the horses lined up backstage.

"How much longer do I have to keep them out?" A young woman asks him. Beautiful. She looks as if she's a teenager, but probably older. Jet black hair turned into dreads, her skin almost a ghostly white, her eyes a striking shade of turquoise.

He glances over, "And you are?"

"Sally...Sally McAllister." She answers quietly, "They don't like being out this long. I want to take them to their pen for some water."

"I just need to look at their hooves, then you can take them right back."

"Why?" Sally raises an eyebrow, "Something I can help you with, Officer?"

"Uh..." Flynn looks over to the young girl with her Southern accent. She reminded him of his own daughter in some ways, "Yeah, okay. I just need to swab the blood, see if it matches our victim. That's all. Help me find the horse and-"

"There was someone back here already. He was cute. Younger than you." She smirks, "Where'd he go?"

"He isn't a part of my squad." The man stands straighter, laughing a little, "Thinks he is sometimes. I guess you can say he's the division's kid. Why you ask?"

Sally shrugs, "He coming back?" She raises an eyebrow.

"Not anytime soon, I'm afraid."

"That's too bad." She smirks, "Win some, you lose some. Right?"

"So, what do you do around here?" Flynn watches the young woman, absently petting a horse next to him.

"I tend to them...the horses. Mostly the older ones. They're more accepting of me than the younger. You'd think it would be the other way around, but it's not." Sally shrugs, tilting her head to the side, "My in trouble or something?"

"No, nothing like that. We just need to hear from everyone in case someone saw something." He nods.

"Thought no one said they did."

"Well, it's a little more complicated than that. Sometimes, people don't remember or they'll block things because for some people, seeing a dead body can be a traumatic experience."

She laughs a little, "Why would it be traumatic?" When she notices the man's facial expression change, "That probably sounds bad...I found my grandma once...and my uncle. He was a drug overdose. Wasn't pretty."

Flynn stands up straighter, nodding slowly. "Sorry to hear that."

"It was awhile ago." She shrugs.

"Alright, you going to help me find this blood?" He smirks, watching as the young woman kneels down to help him look.

"Here." Sally motions to one, "She's holding her foot up. Must know it's there too." She grins to the older horse, "Good girl."

Flynn does as he said he would, "You may hear from our offices. Someone take your information?" When the young woman nods, he returns to the rest of the division, "Okay, we should be good here."

"Major Crimes division, back to the office. Other officers, you all finish here and head back as well. I'd like all reports on Captain Raydor's desk, when completed." Provenza calls out, exiting the tent with a smirk spreading across his face.


	3. Chapter 3

"I don't get why you're not telling them all to do the papers." Rusty raises an eyebrow, watching his foster mother look over each interview report.

"I did not delegate this particular task because I wasn't able to stay at the scene. It's common courtesy." Sharon mumbles mostly, looking over another report, sorting them into three piles.

The young man in front of her, "Can't I help or something?"

"No." She answers simply, "You can be reading if you are that bored."

"I can go talk to suspects for you too, but I'm not doing that either right now." He smirks, pointing to a pile, "What's this one?"

Raydor lets out a heavy sigh, looking up from the report for a moment, "Suspicious, odd, and irreverent." She points to each, "Any other questions?" He seems full of them today, while this didn't usually annoying Sharon, while she was busy, it tended to get under her skin.

"Odd?"

"Means they aren't irrelevant, they're just weird. Like someone is withholding information."

Rusty nods slowly, "It's your largest stack."

"Yes, it is." Sharon nods, reaching over and taking a sip of her warm black tea complete with soy milk and vanilla flavoring.

"Are most things weird to you?"

"No. They may be attempting to protect someone or maybe they said something that wouldn't necessarily make them a suspect, but it does make me question their knowledge of what occurred."

Rusty nods slowly, "Flynn find anything from the horse I was talking about?"

Sharon smiles a little, "He did. A very nice sample. There were some other things as well. You should talk to him."

"Things about the case? You want me to-"

"Not pertaining to the case."

He smirks, "I will go and look into that then." He walks to the door, opening it.

Sharon releases her breath, glancing down to the stacks of papers before her. One in particular was catching her eye, several words stand out at her. She quickly rises from her desk, jogging over to the door, she pulls it open. "Lieutenant Tao, could you pull up some information on Margeaux Coventry?"

"Absolutely, Captain." Tao nods, "Was there something in particular you wanted to know about her?" He turns to his computer, his fingers gliding across the keyboard.

"Tell me if you can find anything connecting her name with the sale or trade of horses. She's listed on her form as a concession stand girl, but..." She tilts her head to the side, licking her lips as she offers him the paper, "The description she offers about the horses and their portion of the show seems to me that she's worked closely with them in the past."

"The largest horse I've ever seen." The man reads from the paper provided to him, "Sixteen hands easy. Diamond studded blinkers. The moron had no clue what he was doing putting an old girl up like that. Would have been better off using a colt."

"However, it also says to me that she has bet on them in the past as well. She used terms like 'Break Maiden' and 'Exacta'." Sharon smirks, "So I believe we have more than just a murder on our hands." She nods, glancing up at the murder board and jumping ever so slightly, placing a hand to her forehead to shield her eyes from the white board. "Could someone turn the photographs of Mr. Birch in costume over?"

Buzz smirks as he nods, doing as told. "Are you okay, Captain?" He knows the answer, he knows how much even the term bothers her, "I wasn't aware that clowns were your Kryptonite."

She nearly flinches, ignoring his statement, "Thank you, Buzz. Has anyone phoned Detective Sykes to check on her?"

"She's fine, Captain." Provenza nods, "It's been going around the building. I had a place deliver some soup and crackers to her.

"Okay." Sharon nods, standing there a moment, "Lieutenants Flynn and Provenza, would you mind paying a visit to Miss Coventry? I'd like you to remember everything she says, maybe record your interview or have Buzz wire you with-"

"Sure, Captain." Flynn rises from his seat, "I'll record it with my phone."

"If she uses any other racing terms, I want to hear them." She watches them.

"May I ask, how do you know so much about horse races?"

Sharon smiles softly, "My husband bet on them very often. He wasn't very good at it and oftentimes would blame the jockey or the track." She nods, "He once tried to tell me that we needed to buy this horse because his friend told him it was a good deal and that they could use it for mating because it was a broodmare sire. It was a gelding."

Andy raises an eyebrow, "A gelding, Captain?"

"A castrated horse." She begins to giggle softly when he combusts with laughter.

"Didn't know there was a name for that." He beams, folding his arms across his chest.

"Flynn." Provenza calls, having been waiting for him in order to leave.

"Excuse me, Captain." Andy nods, turning quickly to walk with his friend.

"Captain, if you don't mind me asking, what do you think we're looking at here?" Sanchez raises his hand slightly to garner her attention.

"Underground horse racing." Sharon nods to him.

"Is that so bad?"

"Captain, if I may," Tao offers, "Conditions may not be safe for the horses to race, they could be abused, overworked. Tracks may be on unfavorable terrain that could otherwise hurt the animals as well."

Sanchez nods slowly, "Okay, so, you think this ties in with our victim?"

"If I'm correct in thinking so, yes." Sharon nods, watching the man.

Flynn pulls up in front of the address provided for Margeaux Coventry. He leans toward the passenger side, glancing up at the tall building, "This looks like a shithole."

"A slum." Provenza sighs, shaking his head, "I've got a bad feeling about this."

"You've got a bad feeling about any place where you think you're going to have to climb a set of stairs." He gives the other man a look, climbing out from behind the wheel after opening his door, "Apartment 608." He begins to chuckle.

"Why...why are you laughing like that?"

"Because, I think she's on the sixth floor."

"That's enough of that." Provenza glares, "Shouldn't we call first? It's only common courtesy." He cranes his neck to look to the top of the dilapidated building.

Flynn rolls his eyes, walking toward the building, "Speaking of which, why does she have an apartment if she's a carnival worker? Don't they move around a lot?"

"Don't know. Let's find out together." He smirks.

Andy shakes his head, "Smartass." The taller man mumbles as they begin their trek up the stairs to the young woman's apartment. Though tedious and long, they finally reach the proper floor, "Alright." He says, out of breath, but not nearly as bad as his partner, "This is it, right over here." He points when he's able to see the numbers.

"Give me a minute." Provenza leans over, taking a few moments before standing up, "Alright."

"You sure?"

"Knock on the damn door."

Flynn smirks, lifting his hand up. He pauses before tapping his knuckles against the metal door, glancing to his partner when he hears a scream from within. "You hear that?" He whispers.

Provenza nods, "LAPD, open up." He bangs a fist against the door, when he hears another scream, he nods.

Picking his leg up and pushing his heel into the door, Andy kicks it in. "LAPD, no one move." He looks to the sight in front of them of a woman wearing leather, holding a chain whip in high heels. Another woman tied up and sitting on the sofa. Andy smirks slightly.

"Help me." The woman on the sofa yells, tears in her eyes. Bloody streaks across his silk blouse from where the

Provenza lifts his pistol to the leather clad woman, nodding to her, "Put down the whip. You got any other weapons on you?"

The woman raises her hands, doing as told, "Yeah, I've got a gun up my ass." She smirks.

He shakes his head, "Alright, which one of you is Margeaux Coventry?"

"Call my Mags. That's what everyone else calls me." The leather clad woman nods, watching the men, "Can I put my hands down now?"

Andy kneels in front of the woman tied up on the sofa, "Are you okay, ma'am?"

The woman shakes her head, "This crazy bitch spiked my drink, I think. I didn't come here on my own accord, I assure you."

"What's your name?" His voice gentle, as he cuts the ropes binding her wrists and feet together with a pocket knife.

"Nora...Nora Saunders." She looks to him, "I was supposed to pick my son up from school an hour ago...Can I just...can I just leave?"

Provenza hears the woman, glancing to her, "Don't you want to give a statement? Press charges of kidnapping, assault-"

"I just want to go, please." Nora glances between them.

Mags smirks, hands still up, "Hey, old man, I asked if I could put my hands down..."

"Shut up." Provenza glares to her, looking back to the assaulted woman on the sofa, "Ma'am, we can assure you that we can locate a family member or-"

"My husband...I...I don't have a car." It all begins to sink in for the woman.

"We can do that." Andy nods, "We just need your statement. Do you think we could take you to get your wounds checked and to get your statement?

Nora looks at him, listening to his voice, she nods slowly, "Fine."

Mags laughs a little, "None of the charges stick. Never do. Besides, I gotta be back to work in a few hours."

"You aren't going anywhere, you're under arrest." Provenza glares to her.

"Yeah, what charge?"

"Kidnapping and assault. I'm sure I'll think up more in the car. " He moves closer to her, handcuffing her hands behind her back.

She shakes her head, "She pays me." Mags walks with them as Flynn takes the reigns and walks her down the stairs, "It's a turn on for her. She's not the only one who pays me to do all this." The woman continues to walk, "Why is the LAPD looking for me anyway?"

"We wanted to ask you a few questions regarding Thomas Birch." Flynn answers honestly, "But now, we're able to take you into custody for other things."

"I didn't have anything to do with it. He was another one of the freaks that paid me for things."

"Yeah," He rolls his eyes, "How the hell you gonna prove that?"

"I take video of all my clients." Mags nods, "I can tell you where to find them if you'd like."

"You can tell me downtown."

"She's going to run at the first chance she gets. Always does. Pays me extra when police are involved."

Flynn nods, "We'll see." He helps her into the squad car, waiting for someone else to arrive before he takes off.


End file.
